


We were caught by the light

by thewriteday



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Or not, boss is soft for her troubled protégé, or get into bigger trouble by projecting those feelings of need on someone else, or whatever, the one where Eve realizes she needs to get whatever this is out of her system
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 10:17:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14746947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewriteday/pseuds/thewriteday
Summary: Eve has a problem and Carolyn offers a (temporary) solution. // Takes place just after Season 1 Episode 5 - doesn't reference any later episodes because I hadn’t seen them yet at the time of writing.





	We were caught by the light

She slips her a hotel key in a pile of folded towels - it’s discrete, like everything with Carolyn is, like being told to buy milk after learning the theory you’ve been mapping out for months has a beating heart.

Eve looks at it for a long time, considering what she’s asked of her boss, what she’d blurted out soon after her “dinner” with Oksana at home. It had made her furious, terrified, and desperate all at once. But it was the desperation that had confused her most. Knife at neck, death all but promised from the other end of the blade, and all she could think about were those four little words.  _“Are you wearing it?”_

She’d touched herself that night. Cried too. Felt like she’d discovered what her body needed and wanted and it was all too big and needy and when she looked at Carolyn two nights later, it felt like she'd read her instantly.

* * *

Over two tumblers of scotch, Carolyn’s voice sounds warmer than its usual chilly timbre.

“It hollows you, work like this. When you’re really good at it. And oftentimes what fills that hollowness isn’t pretty.”

Eve scratches at her bottom lip. “What’s worse is I feel like Niko knew this about me. That I had the potential to just throw everything away at the chance of what? Some kind of bizarre, unfulfilled, destructive obsession? I don’t even know what to call it.”

“Do you think it’s all women or just this woman? Because of what she is to you?”

Eve gulps more forcefully than she means to. The drink burns her throat, scorches it. She coughs and sputters. “I... I can’t say for sure, without, you know, having any real, definable proof of anything either way-“

Carolyn shakes her head softly. “You  _can_  say. Now say it.” They play this game often - Eve is intimidated by her still, but when eventually Carolyn forces her to just spit it out and get to the root of what she means. When she does, it's heavenly.

“I’ve been... looking at other women a certain way. It’s like I can  _see_  them more clearly than before - that sounds stupid - but I notice them on the street, at the shop, everywhere. I did before I guess, but I never realized what I was doing.”

“And what were you doing?”

Eve shrugs, as if her shoulders can force out the right word. “Appreciating.” She grimaces, because that’s still not right. “I thought it was jealousy but it’s more like  _wanting_.”

Carolyn nods, slowly again, as if weighing each word, one-by-one. “Your work suffers for it, you know.”

Eve looks at the floor. It’s impossible to look this woman in the eye sometimes - her gaze is so clear and pointed. Like every motivation Eve has had in her life is a passing whim, but the motivation of Carolyn’s gaze could cut bone.

“I know.”

“So what are you going to do to fix it?”

Eve looks up at that, quizzical. “And just how would I go about doing that? Track down Oksana and ask her to please, pretty please, help me cheat on my husband before you slice me and everyone I love up into tiny bits in pretty dresses?”

“If it’s more than just her, it can be any woman.” Carolyn says easily.

“Well I can’t just ask any woman. And besides which, I would be cheating on my husband.”

“Whom you care about so deeply that you led an assassin into his home.” There’s no malice. No steel in her voice. Which isn’t surprising, given that Carolyn’s voice and character is best described as even. But it cuts her anyway.

“That’s not fair.”

“Every bit of it isn’t fair, Evelyn. But it still happened and just as you own your decisions, _they_ own _you_. At least until you can clear your head enough to solve the problem.”

“So then what would you suggest? All-knowing and omniscient one.”

Carolyn’s eyes drop to her glass - Eve watches her closely. Because Carolyn rarely hesitates and when she does, it  _means_ something. She watches as her hand swirls its tumbler in a circle, the contents turning into a tiny whirlpool.

“What I suggest,” Carolyn says carefully, as if making an incision, “Is that the next time we’re out in the field, I deliver a key to you, hidden away, non-suspect, and you make a stop by my room at the end of a long day. Quite casual.”

Carolyn’s eyes finally turn up to hers then, catching Eve’s palpable shock, surely. There’s something in her eyes just now - Eve would almost call it wry, if she didn’t know any better. Carolyn sips the last of her scotch, tossing it back - Eve watches her throat as it moves - then sets the glass down firmly, her fingers dragging condensation from its sides.

It suddenly occurs to Eve that her superior might be putting on a show for her. It suddenly occurs to Eve that her mouth is bone dry.

Carolyn rises from her armchair, slinging her hands in her pockets.

“Consider your options - if you find an amenable solution before then, then by all means. But if you do want to take advantage of the prospect just say the word.” And with that Carolyn leaves the room, something almost haughty in her gait.

And Eve watches her go. And wonders what that means for her.

* * *

 

Weeks go by without an “amenable solution” presenting itself. She looks up a few escort services in town - they promise discretion and maybe even deliver it. But all Eve can imagine are the too-loud porno moans, skin-tight satin, and bad music. Even if that picture only describes an impression of something she’s never experienced (she’s sure there are professionals that would take care of her just fine, a couple even look a little like a certain wide-eyed killer enough to well and truly fuck her up), every time she reaches for the phone, all she can picture are a set delicate fingers dipping into condensation on an empty scotch glass and the openness of a loaded proposition.

* * *

And now she’s here. On the other side of Carolyn’s hotel door staring down a very different knife’s edge that she can’t quite label. Not yet. 

She hadn’t even realized Carolyn had any... tendencies. She’d mentioned being married before and - despite the tidy haircut - Eve had just assumed that was all there was. Marriages to men, ended by a preclusion to prefer work over pleasure, and no time for much else. She wonders how many women have come before her. Have any?

But the way Carolyn sits waiting - slightly reclined, her hands behind her, keeping her propped up on the bed, like she’s known this would happen from the moment she suggested it - Eve can’t imagine this is a new situation for her boss. Then again, part of her thinks everything Carolyn does has an air of been-there-done-that whether it’s true or not.

Neither has said a word since Eve came through the door. She stands near the wall, a couple metres from the bed, leaving a safe distance.

“Thank-“ Eve begins in a scratchy voice and then clears her throat. “Thank you for having me.” The words sound strange, distant, idiotic.

But Carolyn smiles fondly and it makes her feel better instantly. “Drink?” She asks.

“Please.” Eve responds, her muscles starting to un-tense.

Carolyn stands and approaches the mini bar, then reconsiders and reaches for the top drawer of the bureau. She pulls out a small bottle of gin - her preferred brand, Eve suspects, and makes note - and then a can of tonic from the mini fridge.

Before she pours, she turns back to Eve.

“Double?”

“Yes, please.”

“Have a seat.” She nods to the bed and Eve plops down.

She looks down at her clothes. She wishes she’d worn something _better_. More alluring maybe? Instead she’d just wandered over in the trousers and jumper she’s been wearing all day before she could change her mind.

She picks at a loose thread on her pants and it unfurls more than she’d expected. She tears it off when it gets to an absurd length and then tries (and fails) for several seconds to shake the static-y string from her hand before it falls to the floor. When she looks up, Carolyn is staring at her quizzically, holding the two drinks in front of her, looking downright bemused at the whole scene.

Eve almost apologizes but takes a glass instead and forces a hefty swig. Carolyn does the same, albeit more gracefully - she does everything more gracefully - and then rounds the bed and sets the glass down on the night table.

Eve takes it as a chance to breathe - the g&t glass clutched to her chest like a child's doll.

Carolyn returns and sits on the edge of the bed alongside her, thighs not quite touching. She reaches for Eve’s hair and brushes it over her shoulder. Eve turns to look - and she’s taken aback by how different Carolyn looks in the dim of the room. How gentle she looks this close, this dark. She’s reminded of Carolyn cradling Frank in her arms - hopes this isn’t like that sad display - and then pushes the thought away.

She turns her body a little. Carolyn smiles and brushes Eve’s cheek with the back of her hand.

“I want you to understand that anytime if you feel uncomfortable, if you want to stop or leave or take a break - whatever you need, I am happy to oblige. You needn’t feel like you have to carry on simply because you’ve come this far, all right? I know it’s messy because we work together. But I promise I will keep things strictly professional past this, no matter what happens.”

It’s a speech that sounds prepared. It almost sounds like it’s been delivered before, but that’s probably just that veneer of preparedness that casts a shadow over everything Carolyn does. But whether it’s rehearsed or not, it hits the mark. Eve’s shoulders relax. She turns more fully towards the other woman, licks her lips.

“Thank you.” It’s the first thing Eve has said tonight with a completely steady voice.

“It’s my pleasure.” Is the response. And as Eve reaches behind her to set her glass down on the nightstand, Carolyn removes her earrings and unbuttons the top of her own shirt.

When Eve turns back, she notes how Carolyn always seems all-business - with just an underlying hint of silliness that greatly appeals to her. Eve wants to bring out that underlying charm, lay it all out like pins on a map. She wants and wants and finally she lunges for Carolyn’s face, mashing their lips together sloppily and then dragging her tongue along for the ride. She's been told she's a good kisser (by Niko, mostly, so who knows how valid that is) but as she feels Carolyn’s fingers clutch at her sides - every bit as desperate as Eve is - it makes her feel strong.

* * *

She’s so quiet when she comes that Eve doesn’t immediately realize it’s happened except that Carolyn’s limbs are shaking - quivering actually - and her breath is short. As if she’s spent her whole life forcing herself to stay quiet in situations like this one. She’s the epicentre of control the way the sun is hot; it’s simultaneously fascinating and confounding. Eve doesn’t realize she’s staring until Carolyn reaches down to pull her back up alongside her, their bodies flush and warm, Carolyn still trembling, her eyes closed. 

Her lips are dry and Eve leans down to kiss them, wet them, and Carolyn responds greedily. As if she’s been dehydrated for weeks.

“You’re sure you’ve not done that before.” Carolyn’s voice crackles, and Eve smiles wide. 

“Yep.” Eve confirms. “Although I’ve been thinking about it constructively a  _lot_  lately. Just strategy wise, you know.”

“The effort shows.”

They’d spent the first half hour or so simply kissing, rolling against one another and working up an appetite (not that Eve needed much of a push) and then Carolyn had turned on a dime - taking full control, putting Eve right where she wanted her, when she wanted her there. It was intoxicating. Because that was part of it too - the relinquishing of control. She had adored Nico once, but sex had long since become a chore, like washing dishes or hanging laundry. It had lost all whimsy and she’d grown tired of having to be the initiator, the one in control. Tired of his need to be gentle when she needed more. Part of her wonders if the whole obsession with Villanelle is partly a need to be domineered in some way, that she’s impressed by her authority and possessiveness. The way that she makes Eve feel wanted, desired. 

The way Carolyn is making her feel now. The way she just knew from a single look. 

Eve drags a hand down Carolyn’s arm and watches as the skin there breaks out in gooseflesh - wispy hairs standing on end. 

“Careful. I’m rather ticklish.”

“Oh? I’ll have to remember that.” Eve says lazily, before her brain can stop her.

“Eve."

“Hmm?”

“This was a one time event, to help you with... your little hurdle. Correct?”

“Yes. Of course. You’re right!” Flustered, Eve tries to extract her arms and legs from Carolyn’s form, but she’s instantly pulled back.

“Doesn’t mean you have to leave anytime soon.”

“No?”

“Not at all. I was rather enjoying myself weren’t you?”

“I thought that was pretty obvious.” Eve says. She hadn’t exactly been quiet about it.

“Then stay for a while. If you give me a few minutes? Who knows what we could get up to.”

* * *

 


End file.
